Ink
by Bearison Ford
Summary: AU In which every tattoo has a story.


The shop door opened and closed with a small creak, hardly noticeable over the distinct buzzing of a tattoo gun being used. Michiru glanced over the top of the shop's front desk computer, where she had absentmindedly been scrolling through her Instagram feed. "What can I do for you?"

The new comer was standing a short distance from the door, seemingly caught up in taking in the sights around him. "Ah, yes." Oh, not a he. She. Definitely a she. "I've come to see about getting a tattoo?" Her voice was husky, with a slight accent that seemed familiar. She faced Michiru, but let her eyes get drawn to a rather dark painting hanging on a sidewall of the shop. It had been one of Michiru's earliest works and she had made sure to take it with her when she left home.

"Well you've come to the right place," Michiru said, gaining the customer's attention. "Do you know who you'd like to work with?" A shake of the head. "Ah, k then. Why don't you take a look at the books over there," she pointed over to a small table next to a chair, "and see if anyone jumps out at you? Then we can see what we can work out for you."

The woman walked over and started to look through the artist portfolios, while Michiru went back to her computer. She caught herself taking glances every so often at the woman in the chair, Something about her was familiar and Michiru just could not put her finger on it. After a few moments Michiru gave up on her internet usage and studied the woman in question. There wasn't anything special about her. She had a pair of what looked to be well worn Vans, some simple slim jeans, and a thin sweater over a t-shirt. Her blonde hair was a tussled mess and her blue eyes were starring intently at some pages, while quickly scanning over the rest. Nothing spectacular, but it did make her look handsome, Michiru idly noted.

She got her first clue sometime later, when customer in question presented Michiru her own portfolio. The cover was solid black, save for a small _MK_ written on the bottom right corner. Michiru smirked at the restrained reaction of shock she received when she owned up to her work. They talked over the tattoo idea. _Fireflies in a field, _the blonde had said. _Peaceful. _They worked out an agreed upon placement, her side. There was also a quick discussion on the hourly rate and the issue of her deposit.

"Ok then Ms…" a quick look down at the legal waiver and identification card in hand, "Tenoh-"

"Please, call me Haruka."

"Right, Haruka. As I was about to say, just let me get a copy of your ID, and we'll be good for tomorrow." Michiru walked to the back, stopping to take a quick peak at the work her shop mate had been working on. A quick nod of approval and she was off to the copier.

Returning to the front Michiru handed Haruka her ID and filed away her waiver with her deposit. "Alright, we're good to go. I'll have something all set up and ready for you when you stop by at one. Make sure you've had a full meal before hand. And if anything comes up just give me a call or a text at this number." Michiru quickly wrote down her cell phone number on the back of an appointment card and handed it to Haruka, fingers briefly brushing in the exchange. "Any questions?"

Haruka looked down at the card in her hand for a moment, processing the information she was given. "Um, not at the moment. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Right."

With that the familiar but foreign Haruka Tenoh had left Michiru to get started on the idea she had for the work.

Haruka arrived to her appointment fifteen minutes early. She had grabbed lunch on her way to the T station, after her morning shift let out, and decided if she was going to wait around she'd spend her time in the shop. A bearded man who was drumming out the rhythm of some song Haruka had never heard of on the front counter greater her. "What can I do you for?" He stopped his drumming, rubbed a tattooed forearm, and twisted to the side cracking his back.

"Hi, yeah. I've got an appointment with Michiru." Haruka looked around quickly to see if she could spot her sea green hair over the half walls that marked work spaces, but no luck.

"Oh yeah? Nice, she does some good work man," the bearded man replied. He turned around in his chair and pointed to a vague space near the back. "She's back in her work space, third on the left. You're welcome to go back there."

Haruka looked at the man and then looked back to where he pointed. "Thanks." He waved and went back to his drumming, but the song had changed. Haruka just smirked and walked back towards Michiru's space.

When she got there she stopped for a moment to take in what she found. Michiru sat at a small work table, ear buds in, tapping her foot to the music only she could hear. She was intently focused on the work she was doing for some drawing, what it was Haruka could not tell from the angle. When the artist had stopped to push a stray strand of hair that was too short to be caught in the lose tie at the base of her neck, Haruka finally managed to come up with something to say. "Hey."

Michiru looked up startled, a little embarrassed to be caught of guard. "Oh hey." She put down her colored pencil, paused her music, and took out her ear buds. "Sorry, where you waiting there long?" Her cheeks were a slight pinkish hue.

Haruka shook her head no. "Not really, sorry. The guy up front said it was alright for me to come back here."

Getting up to start prepping her area Michiru laughed. "No, no. You're fine. I just lost track of time. Come in and sit." Michiru patted a foldable work table that was set up behind her chair. "I was actually working out how I wanted to do colors for this. I think you're going to like it. I really enjoyed working on it last night," Michiru smiled at her.

Sitting rather unceremoniously, Haruka looked over at the papers Michiru had fished off of her work desk. There, in a sea of dark blues, purples, and gold, was what she had asked for, only better than was she had imagined. A dusky sky line, the fireflies floating above the plain, but with a little river creek in it. "Wow."

"Glad to hear that." Another smile. "This isn't going to be a whole lot of line work, this is going to mostly shading. So, I'm going to fade it in from the edges…" Haruka nodded as Michiru talked about how she was going to execute it, how she wanted to do the shading, all the technical stuff in art that Haruka had no knowledge in. "So what do you think? Good to go?" Michiru asked, bringing her out of her little trance.

Haruka coughed. "Yeah, I'd like that very much."

"Good. Now pull your shirt up and lets get the stencil on you." Now it was Haruka's turn to blush.

An hour later, Haruka was starting to dislike how raw the skin on her right side was becoming. It was worth it though, she told herself. She needed to get her mind off of her side, so she had focused on the art the decorated the walls of Michiru's work space. "Your art's really good."

Michiru paused in what she was doing, lifting her tattoo gun for a moment, and looked around at what she had up. Some of it was formal versions of original tattoo work she had done in the past, some had been pieces entered into local art shows, and one or two pieces were left over from her school days. "Thanks. I saw you staring at the one up front yesterday."

Haruka blushed for a moment. "I thought it looked familiar. Like I've seen it before."

Wiping some excess ink off of Haruka's skin and then rubbing some ointment on an area she was going to work on, Michiru continued her work. "I doubt it. That piece is from when I was in high school."

"Where did you go to school?" Haruka asked, twisting her head to look down at Michiru.

Without looking up at her, staying focused on her work, the green haired artist replied. "Nowhere around here, but from the sounds of it neither did you." A pause to switch ink colors. "I grew up in Tokyo. Went to high school there."

"Let me guess, Mugen Gakuen?" Haruka asked, switching over to Japanese.

It wasn't easy to surprise Michiru. Well, it was sometimes easy to startle her when she was working intently on drawings, but that wasn't the same thing. To say she was surprised that out of all the high schools in Tokyo, that Haruka managed to name the exact one she went to, was an understatement. Michiru stepped off her peddle, wiped Haruka's side, and put her gun down for a moment. "Yes. How do you know that?"

A husky laugh left Haruka. "I knew it, I knew you were familiar. We went to school together. Who would have thought this could happen?"

Michiru looked at her skeptically. The blonde hair, the blue eyes, the husky voice…she tried imagining a younger Haruka in the Mugen uniform, then it hit her. "You're that track star. You were in my math class. I think it was math. Holy crap." She didn't believe the odds of it either, it had been at least twelve years since high school. Michiru would never have expected to run into someone she only knew by association.

"Yeah, I think it was math. So what brings you out to tattooing in Boston?"

"Art school actually. I got accepted to school out here, as well as a few other places. I liked the atmosphere. I needed to get out into the world." Michiru stretched out her back, herring a few pops. "As for the tattooing, I like the medium. Much more interesting than oil on canvas." A change of her gloves. "How about you, how'd you end up out here? I think I remember you trying to get into racing cars or something?"

Reaching down and tapping on her left knee, Haruka solemnly nodded. "Formula One. I had been picked up to race in Formula Renault, but I had a pretty bad crash during one of my races. Destroyed my knee, did a good number on the rest of my leg. I got really lucky though, my team thought I was done for."

The saddened look on Haruka's face did not go unnoticed by Michiru. "I'm sorry to hear that. So what are you doing now?"

A yawn escaped Haruka's mouth. "Sorry. I'm at Bringham and Women's orthopedic center. Hence the yawn."

The buzz of the tattoo gun started again as Michiru went back to finishing the work of art on Haruka's side. "No problem. Never pegged you for the medical type."

Haruka smirked, until the gun was dragged over a rather sensitive spot near her ribs. "Not many people did. I would not have thought you'd become a tattooist."

"Well, twelve years and college change people." Michiru moved back and inspected her work. Another change of colors. A darker purple this time. "So why the fireflies? If you don't mind em asking?" The thin face of the former racer went serious. "You don't have to answer, you know?"

"No, no. It's fine." She knit her brow while trying to think of the words to say. "There's this girl. Oh don't give me that look, it's not like that. She's eight. I met her while following a friend of mine at work on her rounds, she's an oncologist. Hotaru's her name. She had been in and out of our cancer center many times over the last five years. She's unable to do chemo, her body has a terrible reaction to it. Other things have prolonged, but the cancer just keeps coming back."

Haruka looked intently at a piece of work hanging on the wall, a half finished sketch with a bit of water color on it. She looked back upon the night she met Hotaru. It was late, the night before her first surgery in the five years of illness. Hotaru was sad over having to do it, she hated the idea of scars and shared her dislike when asked if she was ready for the morning. The fear and sadness hidden behind those upset eyes clawed at Haruka's heart. Telling her friend she'd catch up with her later, Haruka had sat down by the bed and showed off her knee to Hotaru.

_Scars happen to everybody, even doctors get scars, _she had told Hotaru, who was staring at her exposed knee. _There__'__s no reason to be sad. You__'__ll have a story to tell._

Hotaru was interested on how the former racer had hurt herself and Haruka obliged, telling her story of racing cars and a pass that went sour. When her story was over Hotaru shook her head furiously. _No. That__'__s not how it happened._ She seemed so sure of herself there and made up her own story about how Haruka fought some monster, raced through the woods, saved a princess. It was so far fetched that Haruka had to laugh.

Haruka couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "Anyway, I met her before a surgery she was going to have and promised to tell her a far fetched story about how she got her surgical scars. She didn't the like idea of having them. One visit turned to two, then three, and now I visit her whenever she's in. Her parents say Hotaru looks forward to the visits. We make up stories about the things at the hospital, the secret lives of the nurses and patients. She's a fighter, that one."

"She sounds it."

On that note they let silence fall between them as Michiru finished the tattoo.

It was months later when they got the call. Months of Haruka's stories and Michiru's sketches in a small hospital room to an audience of one, months of tiny laughter and silly faces. Michiru just knew what was being said while Haruka sat in silence on the edge of the bed they shared (Haruka had not so subtly used the number on the back of the appointment card to ask Michiru out for coffee a week after her tattoo). It wouldn't be good news, no calls in the middle of the night were good. And as the blonde ended the call, her girlfriend moved over to wrap an arm around her, resting her forehead on the blonde's back.

"She's gone," was all Haruka said. They stayed that way in silence until the need for sleep won over.

During that time, sitting there, silently comforting the doctor, MIchiru decided that she would get her own firefly tattoo.


End file.
